Into The Gray
by Caoilfhionn
Summary: Detailing Sakura's bluesy life in a grayish place. Does this story have a happy ending? We'll see... *Third Chapter Up*
1. Nan Desu Ka?

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Author's note- Well, despite a recent statement in which I claimed that I would not be doing CCS anytime soon, my first story to be posted is CCS. ^^; I am still slaving away at my 'first' much rumored about fic, but we'll see when it finally goes up. In the meantime, enjoy this and tell me what you think. 

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Disclaimer: Anyone who thinks the owner of a successful manga/anime would be posting fan fiction on the internet is a complete baka. But for those of you with the attention span and mental processes of Tsukino Usagi, I don't own CCS or the song "The Very Thought Of You."

Into The Gray- Chapter 1 "Nan desu ka?"

The sky wept over the grayness of the day, a grayness that seemed to seep into everything it graced. Puddles formed in the alley as a lone woman made her way down it. She was in no hurry and was apparently unconcerned with the fate of the expensive-looking black heels she was wearing. Her trench coat swayed lightly with the breeze and cold rain spattered her face, but she noticed none of it, seemingly lost in contemplation. Her feet slowly edged her closer to the wall without instruction, as though an unseen groove in the asphalt guided them. She reached out a slender hand to a large metal door that looked as if it had seen one too many of such gray days, but the door jerked open before she could touch it.

"G'd evening, Miss Kinomoto," the tattered face that appeared in the opening grinned out. It could easily have been an appendage of the weathered door. She gave the aging man a wry smile before adding, "Good evening, Charlie."

"They're ready anytime you are, ma'am."

"Thanks," the deep, sultry voice returned, entering the dark room that smelled strongly of smoke. Her heels clicked distinctively on the industrial tile as she strode to a straight-backed chair to deposit her coat. There was nothing besides that chair in the room. It was, after all, the back of a stage. Turning her eyes, she caught the glance of a black-haired man. Giving him a curt nod, she proceeded to shake water from her hair. At her gesture, he advanced into spotlights and could be heard to announce, "Ladies and gentleman, I give you Miss Sakura Kinomoto!" The words caught in the pit of her stomach. _Given name first. They do things _differently_ here._ She prepared herself and stepped on to the stage, taking the microphone from the announcer as he passed.

"Thanks, Sam," she pronounced huskily into the mic, leaning back against a baby grand. During the momentary pause, the audience took time to look her over. She was certainly beautiful, chin-length auburn hair and flashing green eyes that held a twinge of melancholy, but that was nothing new, it was the common defect of every person in the room. Her coloration contrasted sharply with the tight, black lace dress that ended just above the knee.

The piano and saxophone began to churn out a slow, seductive tune and soon her voice was mingling with theirs.

**The very thought of you and I forget to do**

Those little ordinary things that everyone ought to do…

Her mind went on auto-pilot as she stared off into the smoky haze. The familiar lyrics spilled over her crimson lips of their own accord and her body moved in time with the music almost by instinct.

The time seemed to pass quickly. Song after song performed in pseudo-alertness over the drone of conversation and clink of glasses in the background. When she finished, the room applauded politely but unaffectedly despite her obvious over-qualification for the position. She bowed mechanically and made her way off stage and into the audience. Oblivious to the crowd, she seated herself at the bar and ordered a martini.

"That was really great, Miss Kinomoto," the over-enthusiastic youth behind the bar spoke up. She raised her chartreuse gaze to him.

"I've told you, Tom, call me Sakura," she chided, feeling the power that came with knowing she held the young man's heart in her hands, but trying to fight the urge to toy with it. The young bartender flushed red and barely managed to stutter out, "Y-yes ma'am, err…Sak-Sakura." The songstress smiled in mild amusement and turned her attention elsewhere, but her line of vision was abruptly cut off by a stocky body. 

Glancing up at the rather obese man now seated beside her, Sakura was disgusted to see unadulterated desire in his over-fleshed face. "Hey honey, did it hurt?" his first words. She growled deep in her throat. _How original_. 

"You mean when I fell from heaven?" she asked mock-sweetly.

"W-well…yeah," he stumbled, robbed of his favorite line.

"Not half as bad as you're going to hurt when I'm through with you." Seeing an opportunity, he leapt blindly at it, "Why, what did you have in mind?" snaking its way out, accompanied by a leer.

"Why don't you find out?" she breathed, beckoning him toward her. The corpulent man closed his eyes as he leaned in, her hand sliding around the back of his neck, but he was greeted only by the smooth stainless steel bar that she slammed his forehead into. This was followed by a surprisingly strong left hook that sent him sprawling unconscious onto the linoleum behind her stool. Tom gave a gulp and went back to mixing a Bloody Mary with shaking hands. The curtain surrounding the stage fluttered and Charlie materialized from it, moving ghost-like through the crowd. Silently, he took the man by the back of the collar and drug him to the stage door with a strength and mien that implied it was not the first time.

She raised a finger from the edge of her glass and Tom came running nervously to fill it, but the bar received more than did the glass. The woman smiled wearily and placed a hand over his. "That's alright, Tom. I'm heading home now," she told him in an attempt to ease his nerves. It did not have the desired effect.

"Good night, ma'am," he rushed out too quickly. She nodded, too tired to waste further amusement on him, and went to collect her coat.

Outside, the setting of the sun had done nothing to alleviate the gray. It grudgingly stood watch, appointed at time's beginning the unwilling guardian of a forsaken planet. All who journeyed there shared its melancholy. But unlike the others, who saw the smoky shadows as apparitions of haunted pasts, Sakura was comforted by the odd hue. She was reminded of her brother-in-law, Yukito, with his steel-colored hair. He had more the position in her world of a favorite uncle than someone of separate blood, but it had been years since she had seen him or her brother. So with that memory, the gray enfolded her like a blanket. It was her security blanket. Dodging the body of the freshly unconscious man, she moved down the damp but clear alleyway, making her way home with the same lack of haste she had shown hours before.

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Well, that's it for now. More of a teaser than a real chapter, but hopefully it was interesting enough to make you want more. Leave a review or send me an e-mail, whatever you like. Ja, ne!

-Caol


	2. The Way We Were

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Author's note: Well, I'd like to thank Sweetcard, Sun_Moon_Star, Lonely Tenshi, and Bil. For being my first reviewers. Thanks guys! J To Sweetcard, I expect the graphic content to pick up in later chapters, but if nothing else the rating is precautionary.

Upon further reflection, I believe this story is a glorified one shot. Translation: It would be a one shot if I didn't drag it out so long. ^^; Read, _enjoy_, review. 

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Chapter 2- The Way We Were

The meditative woman let herself into an apartment that could not boast of its insubstantiality. A large, well decorated living room awaited her. Paying it no heed, she padded straight through toward the bedroom. But her attention was arrested as she passed a small coffee table. A picture stared up at her, begging notice. Not wishing to deny it anything, she lifted it to waist level. A pair of brown eyes beamed out of a handsome face in her general direction. Behind the tall, chestnut-haired man stood a green angular space racer. She stared lovingly at the lost moment in time until a tear threatened to spill, so rubbing her temple she threw the picture lightly on the couch.

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Save it for later, she told herself as she drug her exhausted body to bed. Taking time only to shed her coat and shoes, she collapsed across it and almost immediately fell into the nightmarish coma that constituted her only repose.

She could hear the roar of an excited crowd. A bright, sunny day in a place and time long forgotten greeted her dulled senses and left her blinded for a moment. When the glare cleared, it was obvious that several racing ships approaching from the vivid blue sky to her left were the cause of the commotion. All around her stood screaming fans, each cheering their respective pilots in hopes that the sheer volume would push its object forward at a greater speed. Looking down the slope of seats, she could see herself standing, staring out at the collection of racers on the horizon. The other Sakura held a handkerchief in a tense death grip in front of her mouth. 

The ships sped forward and down, angling toward a surprisingly narrow finish line comprised of two towering poles. They pulled in tight as they approached the line, every pilot dreaming of crossing it first and willing to risk collision to ensure such a victory. Two ships, one red, the other yellow, were in the lead vying for the win. As the line drew closer, the pilot of the yellow realized too late his error in estimation and tugged sharply at the controls in an effort to avoid crashing into the right line marker. As a result, his wing clipped that of the red, tipping both dangerously off balance. Both ships began a smoking tail spin that would have been, for the audience, a beautifully choreographed dance, had it not been for the knowledge of those two pilots' fate. As the two ships spiraled toward the ground, masking the field with smoke, a third rose seemingly form nowhere to accelerate uncaringly over the damned men and jut through the finish line ahead of them.

Sakura watched herself gasp in shock, as the red and yellow racers erupted into flame upon touching the ground, but then turn to relax and smile easily at the green ship callously taking its victory lap. The older version of herself had to smile grimly. _It was nothing, just the risks they took. Everyone one of them knew it._ She waited for the other ships to cross the line and jumped the rail easily, running across the field, handkerchief fluttering in the wind, to where the green ship sat.

"Syaoran!" she could hear herself call. Space seemed to flip, and now Sakura was standing behind herself as Syaoran jumped down from his perch on the edge of the slim ship, _Cherry Blossom_ emblazoned on its side. He made his way through the crowd that had gathered. "Sakura! _There_ you are!" he emphasized with joy spreading on his face. He ran to wrap his arms around her and twirl her in the air. Both were laughing lightheartedly by the time he set her down. He stared into her eyes for a moment with an indefinable emotion, but suddenly seemed to remember himself.

"Hey! I have to tell you! I was just talking to Akira. Guess what!" he rushed out in a flurry of excitement, pulling her by the hand back to his ship and the crowd. She laughed happily at his childlike enthusiasm.

"I don't know, Syaoran-kun, what?" He had long outgrown the title, but she couldn't bring herself to give up such a hard won privilege. 

"I'm doing so well in this division they want to move me up! Isn't that great? No more of this small stuff, racing around one system belt. I'm going to the pros! Akira says I outclass everyone here by a 'mile.' No offense, Hiirigazawa," he added turning to clap his best friend on the shoulder. The black-haired man nodded good humouredly and grinned. "So what do you think?" he turned smilingly back to Sakura who looked, for all the world, twice as sad as Syaoran was happy. A look of concern crossed his features and he took her shoulder to pull her back from the crowd once more. "What's wrong, honey? We can get married now. They pay the pros just to show up. We can live well." She smiled sadly up at him.

"But Syaoran, you know I can't go with you."

"What do you mean? Of course you can."

"No, Syaoran. I have to stay. You've known that all along," she reminded him on the verge of tears, "good luck," she whispered, kissing him lightly on the cheek and turning to walk away.

Her older self stole one last look at the brown eyed man's stricken face and then faded into oblivion. 

Her eyes opened as though she had never lost consciousness. She had turned on her back at some point and found herself staring at the darkened ceiling. The headlights of a passing car seeped in through the window blinds and played their way across the upper half of the room. When they were gone, the room returned to the deep gray void it had been moments before, showing no signs of ever having been disturbed by light. If the darkness thought the interruption would distract her long enough for it to extract itself from her vice-like gaze, it was disappointed.

She sighed in resignation. She would never have done with remembering. Every time she closed her eyes it was a different tortured memory, but the supply seemed never ending. 

She took the moment of wakefulness as an opportunity to hide from the cold and slid quickly under the covers. Soon, she was tumbling back into the tormented dream world that, if nothing else, was at least familiar.

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I know it was short, but it's probably only going to be about four chapters. It's either make mini chapters or one long one. Well, until next time, minna!

-Caol


	3. Apparitions

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Author's notes- Thanks Dr. M, but I should be the one begging _you_ to write more! Well, not much more to say, this should be winding up next chapter.

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Disclaimer- Another chapter, another thing to disclaim. Let's see, what don't I own this time? …Here we go: I don't own the song "Hiru No Tsuki".

Enjoy!

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Chapter 3- Apparitions

Smoke wreathed around her head from the hand it was propped on. There a cigarette hung all but forgotten. _Another day, another dollar, _Sakura thought staring into the clear liquid that was to ease her tired throat. 

Tom eyed her uneasily from a distance. It was sake today, that drink was reserved for her more introspective days, and on such occasions she was far more touchy than usual. He decided it would be better if he stayed out of reach and retreated to the opposite end of the bar. 

She had just finished a set, playing to the same disinterested crowd. The pay wasn't bad, but the acknowledgement was non-existent. Silently she wondered, if she didn't do back up and the band played without her, would the crowd still applaud lifelessly thinking she had sung? She couldn't fight the part of her that said they would.

The liquid in the glass stirred uneasily as someone further down bumped against the bar. As the ripples began to subside, faces formed in the liquor until it no longer existed and Sakura seemed to be staring into a mythical mirror that reflected past lives.

"Sakura," a weak voice coughed out. The girl in question turned, forcing a smile onto her face, but it failed to reach her pained eyes.

"Hai."

"Could you pour me some tea?"

"Hai, wakarimashita, Tou-san," she replied, pouring the bitter substance and carrying it to the bedside. 

Kinomoto Fujitaka lay in an exhausted state, barely able to move. He had been released from the hospital days before in order to be made "more comfortable" at home. It would be a matter of months at most, the doctors had told her and Touya.

She sat beside the bed now, staring warily at the shell that had once been her father, and yet, in a very small way, still was. "Is there anything else I can get for you?" she asked at length, loathe to break the oppressive silence.

"Sing for me, dear. You have such a beautiful voice," he pleaded softly. She swallowed uncomfortably. It was not a request she could refuse, but singing was the last thing on her mind right now. She searched for something calm but cheery, and after collecting herself, began.

**_Oto no nai mahiru_**

Kaze wa tada akarui…

The last verse caught at her heart, the words seeming to mock her pain. She seemed to forget that the song had not chosen to be sung. "Softly let me hear of the distant future, so bright it can't be seen…like a white sand moon." She glanced over as she finished, the aging, dying man was asleep.

A tear fell in her sake, and with the disturbance, the scene changed.

Touya stood hugging her. Yukito waited a few paces away, giving them the time they needed. Friend after friend approached to bow their respects, only to go unnoticed. Unruffled, they then turned to pay final homage to the man all gathered had known and loved.

When the funeral was over, her brother drew her aside. "Kaijou," she smiled at the familiar name, "I know this isn't a good time to say this, but I need to. Yuki and I have decided…well, you see…we're moving away." Her head jerked up in shock. "To Jupiter," he added at last.

"Nani? But…that's so far away!" she finally managed to articulate.

"I know. We just need to get away from all the unpleasant memories. But we want you to come with us," he added, trying desperately to explain.

She thought for a moment, "Iie, niichan. I would just be in your way. I'll be fine on my own."

"I'm not going to take 'no' for an answer, Sakura. You're coming with us." She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder to silence him.

"Listen to your little sister for once," she said with all the calm of a fifty year-old woman, "I'll be fine. I'm not a baby and you two need to get on with your lives. You've been tied down here too long." He frowned down at her, and she had to give a sad grin. He had admitted defeat.

Her reverie was suddenly broken by the shifting of body weight next to her and the words, "Hey, you come here often?" gliding over her senses.

Adopting her best death glare, she turned to the object of her annoyance, but was surprised to not hear the usual gasp in response to that particular gesture. Instead, the bespectacled man chuckled lightly. Greeted by the barely altered face, Sakura jumped from shock.

"Hiirigazawa-san?!" She leapt at the unsuspecting man, and had she been able to see his face from her position clamped around his neck, any disappointment from his previous lack of reaction would have vanished.

"It's nice to see you too, Kinomoto-san," he chuckled once he had regained composure. She pulled back and blushed slightly.

"Gomen nasai, I was just so surprised to see you," she apologized.

"It's quite alright, I was rather shocked myself. I haven't seen you since before I left Earth. How've you been?" A ghost of her formerly brilliant smile played at the corners of her mouth as she mumbled out, 

"Oh, you know. Daijoubu." Seeing her falling countenance, his smile faded as well. Still, he played along with her charade.

"I'm glad to hear that. So what brought you to Einsam?" 

She shrugged, "It's as good a place as any. I didn't really feel at home on Earth after Tou-san died," she paused, realization hitting, "Wait, did you know?"

"Iie, I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"It makes sense, it was after you left."

A light tap on the shoulder caused her to turn. Charlie was standing there smiling submissively at her.

"It's time for your next set, Miss Kinomoto."

"Thanks, Charlie." The old man nodded and tottered away. 

"I have to go do another set, Eriol-san. I'd like to talk to you more, but I don't suppose you'll still be here when I finish."

"Actually, no. I have an appointment, but if you're working tomorrow I could drop by around the same time."

"That would be great," she affirmed with a sincere smile, "Well, dewa ashita."

"Yes, tomorrow," he said in his usual cryptic manner and turned to leave. As she walked back to the stage, a thought occurred. _I wonder why Eriol-san is on Einsam, anyway._

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Quick Japanese lesson:

Hai, wakarimashita- "Yes, sure." Wakarimashita is literally "I got it/ I understand" said politely.

Dewa Ashita- Until tomorrow/ See you tomorrow.

Well, it looks like this chapter has turned out a bit longer than the previous two. Hope minna is enjoying it. Only one way to let me know…Review! Thinking about it more, the title for this chapter is appropriate on so many levels. *shrug*

Why is Eriol on Einsam? Who is this 'appointment' with? Does anyone know what 'Einsam' means? All this and more in the next…*dum dum dum*…Into The Gray.


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